


false premise

by eeriemedusa



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: (namely kaoru/ainosuke), Allusions to Unhealthy Relationships, Bedsharing, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kaoru-centric, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Post EP9, i ship adam's face with my fist, matchablossom communicate and everyone hates adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29971413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeriemedusa/pseuds/eeriemedusa
Summary: What feels like a lifetime later, Kaoru is halfway down the S track and still believes that what Kojiro said is true.He has built his entire strategy this evening around that premise, around the foundational knowledge that Ainosuke will not hurt him. Not really, not intentionally.--Machine learning is only as good as the available data. Kaoru can’t account for all his mistakes.
Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom, Past Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom/Shindo Ainosuke | Adam - Relationship
Comments: 10
Kudos: 253





	false premise

_False Premise — A false premise is an incorrect proposition that forms the basis of an argument or syllogism. Since the premise (proposition or assumption) is not correct, the conclusion drawn may be in error._

///

It starts small, a little error, a one where there should be a zero. 

It starts small, these things always do. You take the turn at the wrong angle, just a degree or so off, and it snowballs, suddenly you’re further and further from the route you’ve planned, swinging off course until you’ve hit something you never thought to prepare for. 

A one, where there should be a zero. The difference between safety, _control_ and — 

Kaoru doesn’t usually let this kind of thing happen. 

This, _this_ is what Kaoru — what he appreciates about Kojiro. Kojiro, for all his bluster and bravado, for all his love of instinct and _going with the flow_ , Kojiro is consistent. He is reliable in a way that sparingly few things are. 

Kaoru can’t even remember the specific moment when he and Kojiro became friends. Kojiro has been such a constant presence in his life, so ubiquitous, he might as well have been there all along. 

They learned to skate together. Kojiro’s mom bought Kaoru his first board because, despite his fitful attempts at teen rebellion, she was convinced that he was a _good influence_ on her son. She would sit him and Kojiro at their dinner table, ruffling his hair as she did, calling them “my boys”, and Kojiro would flush, and she would give Kaoru a knowing look that he could never quite decipher. 

She would drive them to the skate park before they were old enough to go on their own, and fish out a beat-up camcorder to record the new tricks they learned. Kaoru rewatched those videos more times than he can count. He knows Kojiro — the way he moves, the way he skates — in his bones. 

If Kojiro is consistent, then Ainosuke was a shock, a decisive break from their established routine. 

Kaoru never totally figured him out. Sometimes Ainosuke would laugh when Kaoru bailed, no matter how hard or ugly the fall, and sometimes he would catch Kaoru before he ever hit the ground. Sometimes Ainosuke would knock him off his board during playful races, and sometimes Ainosuke would be the first one to help him up, cradling his hands gently as he bandaged them. 

But in his best moments, Ainosuke was sweet as summer-ripe fruit, and Kaoru — Kaoru had long ago accepted that Kojiro would never want him in the same way, and Ainosuke was there and bright and dazzling, so—

Sometimes Kaoru and Ainosuke would meet half an hour before the others were supposed to arrive and make out under the bridge. Sometimes Ainosuke would leave hickeys well above the collar of Kaoru’s shirt, and Kojiro would spend the evening scowling at Kaoru’s neck. Sometimes Kojiro would spend the next day flirting incessantly with the girls in their class, while Kaoru pretended that he wasn’t bothered. 

Sometimes they were best friends, and they knew each other better than they knew anybody else. Sometimes everything was okay in the easy way, the way that does not require further inspection or consideration. 

There were other times, too. 

There was a time in the rain, screaming for Ainosuke to stop. The skater he’d been beefing with had bailed and broken his arm and it was not okay anymore. They were not okay anymore. 

Kojiro had been so angry that time, spitting mad and ready to challenge Ainosuke to something much more dangerous than a beef; Kaoru had talked him down, reminding him that Ainosuke wouldn’t hurt anyone, not really, not intentionally. 

“Ainosuke would never hurt _you_ ,” Kojiro said, and he sounded so _bitter_ when he said it that, for a moment, Kaoru balked. 

And then Kojiro stepped back, just a half-step, so their faces weren’t quite as close. “I just mean,” he said, “this isn’t— He’s not going to try anything with us. But this isn’t cool, Kaoru.”

“No, I know,” Kaoru said. “I’m not stupid, Kojiro. I know. I’ll talk to him.” Kaoru punched Kojiro lightly in the arm, affording himself a half-smile. “Don’t worry your ape-brain over it.”

“Whatever you say, four eyes,” Kojiro said, tapping his fist against Kaoru’s shoulder in return. It was playful, almost passing for gentle. It felt like _I’m sorry_ . It felt like _let’s go back to normal_. 

It felt like something Kaoru could work with. 

Three months later Ainosuke would leave for America. In that time a dozen more skaters would be injured. 

Even as Ainosuke walked away, some part of Kaoru still stubbornly insisted that Kojiro was _right_.

What feels like a lifetime later, Kaoru is halfway down the S track and still believes that what Kojiro said is true. 

He has built his entire strategy this evening around that premise, around the foundational knowledge that Ainosuke will not hurt him. Not really, not intentionally. 

Kaoru is about to round the next bend, buzzing in anticipation of the curve. Skating with Ainosuke always gave him a unique kind of high, the sheer adrenaline of skating with someone so gifted, the thrill of carving out each victory by a hairsbreadth. 

Kaoru is riding that high, even now, edging forward, ready for the bend—

And then, Ainosuke leaps from his board.

And then: Kaoru realizes that he has made a terrible, terrible mistake. 

///

Kaoru can’t quite parse what was happening if he’s being honest. Something warm and wet is dripping from his nose, coating his lips, and — and he thinks he might be crying. Why is he crying?

The world swims in and out of focus with each blink. A solid hand cradles the back of his head, and he thinks — he thinks Ainosuke was here. Did he fall? Is Ainosuke holding him?

He blinks and shifts, trying to sit up, only to be shushed. A second-hand presses him gently back to the ground, still cradling his head so he doesn’t have to rest it against the rocky ground. That’s nice. It would be nice if Ainosuke were this nice. 

Kaoru blinks again, dragging the world back into focus, and— _Oh._

Oh. 

Of course. 

Kojiro’s worried face hovers over him, eyebrows drawn together in concern. It’s not a good look on him, Kaoru thinks fondly. Kojiro’s always looked better happy. 

“‘Jiro,” Kaoru slurs, “‘s goin’ on?”

“Hey,” Kojiro says, brushing the stray hairs out of Kaoru’s face. He’s so nice, even when he’s being a gorilla, and Kaoru loves him so much. “Hey, you — you’re hurt. You’re hurt pretty bad, Kaoru, so just hold still for me, okay? We’re bringing the car around, I just need you to hold still.”

“‘M’kay.”

Kojiro pets his hair absently, and Kaoru leans into the touch. 

“Bring that fucking car around,” Kojiro calls over Kaoru’s head. The smell of exhaust starts to flood the air, accompanied by the low rumble of a car engine. He turns back to Kaoru, still holding him gently, “I’m gonna pick you up now,” he says, voice gone deliberately soft.

“Mm,” Kaoru hums. 

Kojiro takes that for the agreement that it is and shifts his arms, lifting Kaoru from the ground in one easy movement. He tries to be gentle, Kaoru is sure, but it still _hurts_ , jostling what feels like a gnarly set of developing bruises and at least one broken bone. 

He whimpers softly, and Kojiro stills, letting him adjust to the new position. Kaoru presses his face into Kojiro’s shoulder — heedless of the bruising — and nods, bidding him to continue and letting his own eyes fall closed. 

He drifts for a moment, eyes shut against the aching throb that encompasses his entire body. He barely registers being jostled as he’s maneuvered into the backseat of a car, as ever-present as the pain is. 

He wants to let go, let himself fall asleep just for a brief reprieve from the searing pain that each shift and movement brings, but Kojiro’s voice cuts clearly through the fog of his thoughts. “Stay awake, four eyes,” Kojiro is saying. “We’re almost there, just stay awake.”

Kaoru tries to comply, fighting to keep his eyes open. The longer he’s awake and aware the more memories filter back in. There was the beef, Ainosuke’s board swinging towards his face, Ainosuke— 

“He called me boring,” Kaoru says, sounding pathetic even to his own ears. 

“You’re not boring,” Kojiro snaps. 

Kaoru’s breath hitches, just a little. 

“You are _not_ boring,” Kojiro insists. Kaoru hates it when he sounds like this, when he sounds properly angry, not the play-fight angry that they draw out of each other so easily. 

Kaoru must look particularly pitiable because Kojiro softens, running a gentle hand through Kaoru’s hair, avoiding his undoubtedly bruised face. “You — The way you skate, it isn’t like anybody else. Nobody else could skate like you, Kaoru. You—”

Kojiro is cut off as the car jolts to a stop. “We’re here,” the driver says.

“Thanks, Shadow,” Kojiro says. “Can you make sure Miya gets home safe?”

Kaoru assumes the driver — Shadow, apparently — agrees, but can’t really parse his response, focussed as he is on Kojiro’s gentle shushing as he lifts Kaoru from the backseat of the car. Kaoru’s thoughts are like fish in a pond, darting out of reach when he tries to grab them. 

He gets his hands around one, pulls it from the water. “Miya’s ‘ere?”

“He’s fine, dummy. You’re the only one giving everyone a scare tonight.”

Kaoru huffs. “Whaabout Carla?”

“I’ve got her,” Kojiro says. “Listen, I know you worry a lot, but let me handle this, Kaoru. Just this once.”

Kaoru narrows his eyes, studying Kojiro’s profile in the dark. He looks serious, even in the low lamplight, Kaoru can make out the furrow between his brows. Kojiro’s always serious when it matters most. He’d never lie to Kaoru about something like this. 

That’s the thing about Kojiro, isn’t it? He’s consistent. 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Kojiro echoes. 

Okay. 

///

It’s dark when Kaoru wakes, tucked securely in a hospital bed. It feels incongruous, like simultaneously no time and far, far too much time has passed since he was last conscious. 

The hospital room is sparse and unfamiliarly sterile. Kojiro is slouched in one of the chairs on the far side of the room. It’s almost funny, the bulk of his body crammed into that tiny chair. 

“Kojiro,” Kaoru says, and Kojiro jerks awake, almost knocking himself out of his chair in the process. 

Kaoru snorts. 

“Kaoru,” Kojiro says, “you’re awake!”

“Clearly.”

Kojiro drags his chair over to Kaoru’s bedside. He settles into his seat again, tapping Kaoru’s shoulder gently with his fist. “You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack, you know that?”

Kaoru clenches his jaw. “I’m sorry,” he says, deliberately studying the plain white paint of the far wall. 

“Hey, none of that,” Kojiro says. “Adam is an asshole. And I shouldn’t have let you race him alone, to begin with.”

“You don’t _let_ me do anything.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I should have, all things considered. And anyway, if I had taken that race I would’ve won!”

Kaoru knows that Kojiro doesn’t mean it like that. It’s just their usual bullshit. Kojiro says he would have won, and then Kaoru points out that the rookie beat him, and they snap and glare and argue. And then Kojiro makes him dinner, and Kaoru watches him go soft around the eyes when he’s watching Kaoru eat the food he’s made, and Kaoru thinks maybe, _maybe…_

But Kaoru doesn’t argue this time. Instead, he curls in on himself, rolls onto his side so that his back is facing Kojiro. His hands are fucked, his right wrist is in a brace. They won’t stop shaking, so he clasps them together, tries to force his body into stillness. 

“I didn’t mean that,” Kojiro says. “I don’t know why — I’m sorry, Kaoru. I didn’t mean it.”

“I should’ve known.”

“ _No_. There’s no way you could’ve known. Kaoru, we both thought—”

“He hurt everybody else,” Kaoru continues, “and for some reason, I thought he wouldn’t — What’s so special about me that I would be an exception?” Kaoru’s eyes feel embarrassingly warm. He scrubs at his face. 

“Hey,” Kojiro says gently, “he told you that you were, and you trusted him. That’s on him, not on you.”

It’s not fair. None of this is fair. It’s not fair that Adam is just _fine_ after everything, that none of this even phases him. It’s not fair that Kaoru is stuck in this stupid hospital, and that Kojiro is stuck here with him, comforting Kaoru over his own stupid mistakes. 

Kaoru sighs. There’s one thing he can remedy at least. 

“I think,” he says, fighting to keep his voice even, “that you should go.”

Kaoru can feel the way Kojiro stiffens behind him. 

“If that’s what you want,” Kojiro says carefully, “then I’ll go. But for the record? This is where I want to be.”

Kaoru inhales. Holds the breath. Exhales. 

“Do what you want,” he says. 

“Okay,” Kojiro says, decisively this time, like he’s made a decision. “Hey, you should turn around because I’m definitely going to develop a complex about seeing your face, otherwise. Every time I go more than five minutes without seeing you, I’m going to start assuming someone’s smacked you in the face with a board again and, like, freak out.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Kaoru sighs. 

“And you love me for it,” Kojiro replies smugly, as Kaoru rolls over to face him. 

Kojiro is bent over the bed, face hovering just centimeters away from Kaoru’s. Kaoru can make out his freckles. There’s no trace of the smug, smirking expression that Kaoru expected, but then, hasn’t that always been Kojiro? The bluster, the bravado, and, beneath that, a quiet, sincere care. 

Hasn’t Kaoru just been lucky enough to see it?

“Hi,” Kojiro says.

Abruptly, Kaoru wants to cry again. His eyes itch treacherously, and he blinks furiously, trying to clear the tears, scrubbing at the stray few that roll down his cheeks. 

“Shit,” Kojiro says. “I’m fucking this up, aren’t I? Just tell me what —”

“Why are you even here,” Kaoru interjects. “Why— What—”

“Kaoru.” Kojiro’s brow creases and he has the nerve to look _confused_. “You know this. I— You’re my best friend. I love you.”

“You—”

“I’ve been in love with you since we were in _high school_ . You _knew_.”

“I — The dates?”

“Kaoru,” Kojiro says, “I was only going on dates because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You knew that, right?”

Kaoru did not, in fact, know that. How could he, when he was so busy tucking away his own inconvenient _feelings_ . How could he, when things between them were so _comfortable_ that it didn’t bear thinking _maybe, maybe, maybe._

But then, maybe Kaoru should have looked a moment longer and wondered. 

Maybe they’ve both been massive idiots. 

“I want to kiss you,” Kaoru says decisively. Kojiro nods, already leaning forward, but Kaoru continues, “Not now. I don’t want this to be about Ain— about Adam.”

It’s just that, from the moment Ainosuke crashed into their lives, he defined them. With his presence first, and then his absence, and — After everything, Kaoru doesn’t want this to be something that happened because Ainosuke was cruel and vindictive in ways that Kaoru never thought to anticipate. He wants this to happen because Kaoru and Kojiro are in love, and it’s like flowers blooming in the springtime. It's the natural thing to do. 

Kojiro frowns. “I don’t think you’re using me to get over him if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No, I’m not— I just. I want to be sure that he doesn’t get any part of this,” Kaoru says. 

He feels silly as soon as the words leave his mouth, but Kojiro just shrugs easily and replies, “Sure, okay. Whatever you need.”

Kaoru studies him for a moment. Then, he says, “You should get in the bed.”

“You’re injured,” Kojiro protests.

“And how many times have you gone skating on an injury?”

“No offense, Kaoru, but this is a _little_ different.”

“I’m injured,” Kaoru says, “so you should be nice to me.”

“…Fine.”

Kaoru smiles, smug and satisfied like a cat. 

Kojiro climbs onto the narrow hospital bed, helping Kaoru maneuver so that he’s using Kojiro’s broad chest as a pillow. It is more comfortable than Kaoru will ever be willing to admit. 

“You know,” Kojiro says, once they’re both situated in the bed, “I told the nurse you were my boyfriend.”

“You _what?_ ”

“She was asking what my relationship to you was,” Kojiro says defensively. “I’m your emergency contact, I had to explain that somehow. And… I had to get her to let me spend the night somehow.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Well, it’s sort of true now, isn’t it?”

“You’re an idiot.”

Kojiro presses a kiss to the top of his head. Kaoru can feel him grinning into his hair. “Does this mean I get to kiss you tomorrow,” he asks.

“See if I ever let you kiss me, you gorilla,” Kaoru says through a stifled yawn.

“‘M your gorilla, though,” Kojiro mumbles in reply. 

He’s going to be insufferable tomorrow, no doubt proving that this was all a huge mistake. 

But, Kaoru supposes, there are worse mistakes he could have made. 

///

_“I kneel into a dream where I_

_am good & loved. I am _

_good. I am loved. My hands have made_

_some good mistakes. They can always_

_make better ones.”_

_— Natalie Wee, “Least of All”_

**Author's Note:**

> ep9 hit me almost as hard as adam's board hit cherry so please accept this fic about my Feelings. a very big thank u to rosemary the wife of my life for beta reading this + a very brief and nerdy fact: the 1 vs 0 error referenced at the very beginning is a reference to how you code for dummy variables in statistical software... the implication being that cherry entered the affirmative 1 for "yes adam cares about me and would not hurt me" instead of a 0.... F. anyway sorry for my nerd crimes hope you enjoyed this fic!


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